


Hope Like a Heartbeat, Filling an Empty Chest

by APgeeksout



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Episode Tag, M/M, Multi, Reunions, Sharing Clothes, sentimentality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-18 22:19:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12397389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APgeeksout/pseuds/APgeeksout
Summary: A ficlet about matching gear and mushy feelings.  Final scene set just after the 10.09.17 episode of Raw.





	Hope Like a Heartbeat, Filling an Empty Chest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MacKenna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacKenna/gifts).



> Thanks for sharing my goofy overinvestment in these dudes and the disposition of their old clothes! <3

**July 2014 - Las Vegas**

Dean's never thought of it as a hope chest. That's shit for people who are better at making plans and having traditions (and, like, hopes) than he's ever been. It's just that he's finally settling into the house - _his_  house, where no one else can throw him out or make him feel like he takes up too much space - and he's got all this spare room to fill up however he wants.

He knows the trunk is coming home with him the second he sees it at the flea market: worn brass fittings, a second skin of faded traveling stamps, funny-shaped compartments lined in faded velvet and wrinkled silk. It's taken a beating, and still fit to work. There's got to be a spirit attached to something like that, but he's willing to chance that it'll be the kind of ghost he can get along with.

If it wasn't haunted to start with, it definitely is after he dumps in all the gear that he can't stand to look at and doesn't have the heart to burn and drags it into the garage like a guilty corpse.

* * *

**November 2016 - Pensacola**

Dean doesn't recognize it at first. It's just an unexpected hard shape at the bottom of the lowest of the deep drawers of Roman's dresser, where he's rummaging around for a sweatshirt to take with him when he heads for the airport later. (One of the other drawers is empty, and one of these days, Dean's going to get brave enough take him up on the lingering invitation to fill it up. Even then, he thinks he'll probably still want to swipe Roman's hoodie.)

It's only when he's peeled back the layers of fleece and cotton to expose the mask's rictus grin and the vest's heavy canvas straps that he realizes what he's got in his hands. He wonders if it's been here through the whole last couple of years, just a couple of paces from Roman's bed. He wonders what it's been like on Raw the last few months, having Seth always around, just out of arms' length.

He secrets the old gear away again and zips himself into a '49ers hoodie from the top of the stack and finds Roman in the kitchen, hustling up a stir-fry out of last night's leftover steak. He sidles up to the stove and wraps his arms around him from behind, presses a kiss to the side of his neck.

"What's that for?" Roman asks, the hand that isn't busy with the spatula rubbing lightly up Dean's arm.

He doesn't say anything about old clothes or old pain or holding on or letting go.  He just hooks his chin over Roman's shoulder and laughs and squeezes tighter. "Still think I need reasons? Figured you knew me better than that by now."

* * *

**October 2017 - Indianapolis**

"Sorry," Seth says, jiggling the key again. "It's stuck."

It's a weirdly warm Indian Summer kind of night, but Dean's pretty sure Seth's hands are shaking around the padlock.

"Maybe it's rusty," Seth continues. "It's been kind of a while since I was here."

"Let me take a crack," Roman says, and replaces Seth's hands with his own.

"Why do you even _have_ a storage unit three states from home?" Dean asks.

"I had to get rid of some things in a hurry." Seth glances down and honest-to-god scuffs his toe on the pavement, and for a few heartbeats, it's hard to remember how he used to smirk about _business partners_ \- it's hard not to wind a hand in the neck of his t-shirt and pull him in close.

The lock opens with a quiet snick against Roman's palm and he steps aside to let Seth do the honors.

"Oh, come on!" Seth huffs at the lock even as he reaches to undo the hasp.

"Maybe you loosened it up for me," Roman offers, smiling fondly.

"That's gotta be it," Seth agrees with a laugh that's drowned out as he heaves up the rolling garage door at the front of the unit.

Dean shines the flashlight on his keychain into the unit, illuminating only a row of empty shelves lining the back wall. Seth circles his wrist and nudges his arm up and to the left, until the narrow beam centers on a familiar black and blue gym bag.

Seth moves into the unit, towing Dean along with him, and Roman follows, a steady presence at their backs.

The zipper sticks a little - and Dean's pretty sure Seth's fingers are shaking again - but eventually the mouth of the bag flops open to reveal a bundle of dark cloth, a surface dotted with an impractical number of pockets, a pair of shining black gloves.

"I knew I couldn't keep it," Seth starts,"but I wasn't ready to get rid of it. Even after..."

Dean figures that he probably would have trailed off anyway - it still seems to be hard for Seth to talk directly to him and Roman about what he did - but Dean gives him an excuse to break off this time, slinging an arm around his neck and turning to bury his face against Roman's chest while he laughs helplessly about the Shield's dirty laundry.


End file.
